


Frustrated

by cupidty11



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Autopsies, Consensual, Experimentation, Fantasizing, Gore, M/M, Masturbation, Medical, Other, Sexual Fantasy, Viscera, ZaDr, i mean its just a fantasy but in this scenario both of them be chill with this, srsly its fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidty11/pseuds/cupidty11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Older threats of experimentation, autopsy, lab tables…it used to send fearful shivers down his spine. The thought of strangers opening him up still did. But Dib…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustrated

**Author's Note:**

> soo this is messed up. at least for me. but hot damn if 203y on tumblr isn't a bad influence on me.  
> this is short and bad but *shurg* I haven't written any kind of porny stuff in a long time.

There hadn’t been a day this week he hadn’t spent frustrated. He was constantly on edge and his skin felt too hot, like everything that touched him would set him off. Zim threw his arm over his eyes, trying to think of something relaxing. Anything. But, instead the same creature that was causing his frustration rose up before him. Dark gold eyes, darker intent. A mouth that could split just as easily into a mischievous grin or a hard scowl. Dib was tall. And his voice was so deep, sending rumbles through Zim’s body when they were close together. His threats and his praise were so similar in tone.

The last time they’d met…it had been explosive. Older threats of experimentation, autopsy, lab tables…it used to send fearful shivers down his spine. The thought of strangers opening him up still did. But Dib…

Zim found his hands wandering. He remembered being touched on his stomach, his waist, hips by the human…but not…there. Between his legs. Slightly shaking, hesitant fingers slid below his waistband.

To be spread open, contained and exposed to the human…. It should’ve been unthinkable, disgusting, awful. And yet, he was already unsheathed, aroused. Bulge poking his fingers. He rubbed at it softly until it uncoiled fully into his waiting palm.  
  
Dib would take such pleasure in having Zim at his mercy. Limbs cuffed to the table. He’d try to speak in cool, calculated tones, scientific and impartial. But, before long he’d get excited. Dib would be thrilled to be studying HIM, the almighty Zim’s beautiful physique and all its mysteries. And he’d be angry because Zim would not be silent to let him have his fun. No. He’d be vocal the whole time. Each poke and prod would elicit complaints, mocking, shouts…

Zim moaned and bit his lip to stop the sound. Then he couldn’t help but imagine what Dib could do to drag more out of him. A thorough examination first. Marking all the differences between them. Count each rib, test his reflexes, wonder at the spot between his thighs. Maybe tease at the edges, trying to coax a response. And when there was one immediately (because no one else had ever been able to bring one from him) Dib would be fascinated. The color and shape. The texture. The taste…maybe press a gloved finger or two inside of him.

Zim copied the imagined motions, breathing labored and uneven.

And when Dib finally gleaned as much as he could from the outside (for now), he’d move to the inside. Anesthesia wasn’t necessary. His pak provided that automatically. But, not quite enough to be unable to feel the first cold touch of the scalpel against his skin. The press and slice that was so sharp it hardly brought any pain. But, the sensation was enough to make him feel so exposed.

His organs, viscera glistening in the harsh lab lighting. Dib’s face was one of pure exhilaration. He’d want to take so many pictures, catalog each artery or ventricle. And he’d reach inside, gently touching each one. It would be so intimate, so awful and so wonderful to have Dib so close. Literally inside of him.

There was a burning in his gut, a low pressure that built up behind an incredible ecstasy as he pulled his fist up and down his length.  
  
Pink blood would cover his gloves, similar in color to the precum on his own fingers. Dib would compare each section of his spooch to the human’s organs. Asking question after question, curiosity in his every movement. It would be so hard to talk but, Zim would try.

Zim ran a hand up his stomach, imagining where the incision would be.

What if…?

Dib would notice Zim was aroused, even while cut open and vulnerable. A shameful display. So needy and wrong. How would he react? Dib smirked knowingly and helped his test subject out while continuing his work. Or perhaps he considered it part of his tests. While one hand continued to press against the different parts of his spooch, the other would trail down to his need, gently stroking him, playing with him. Watching how his spasms and shivering affected his organs.

He’d whisper praise and subtle snark until…

His orgasm hit him and he was still so unused to how it felt. Like the universe was made purely of pleasure for a minute or so, it all narrowed down to just…feeling. Dib’s name was on his lips, said several times over and over until the spasms subsided and he collapsed. His limbs shook and he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling of wires.

Already he felt dirty, ashamed. But, the tension that had been haunting him for days was gone. He sighed and worked up the energy to move, to clean himself up.


End file.
